Archive for the 'Into The Light' Category

Send In The Clowns

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Cowgirl Leaves The Stands

In a week filled with news about his administration’s political fails, President Trump seems to have landed a major cultural victory for his base: keeping black America on its knees by forcing football players to their feet during the national anthem.

First and foremost: The decision to kneel for the anthem, beginning with Colin Kaepernick, was always about protesting American racism and police brutality. Sadly, and predictably, instead of engaging with the honest plea for America’s police to stop killing citizens of color, Trump, Vice President Pence and the National Football League have reacted by doing their damnedest to 6a00d83451c72969e2011278f9951728a4-350wisilence these protests, by staging taxpayer-funded walkouts and issuing statements directing players to stand for the national anthem. On Tuesday, weeks after he kneeled with his players for unity and equality before the anthem was played, cantankerous Cowboys owner Jerry Jones issued a statement saying his players would stand for the anthem. Jones admitted that he had spoken with Trump over the phone and that the president had reminded him of the NFL policy of standing for the anthem.

With Pence’s stunt, Trump’s tweets, Jones’s edict and NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell’s statement saying players should stand, the debate about players standing for the national anthem is no longer about the flag. This is not about the anthem. This is not about supporting the troops. This is about putting outspoken black people back in their place in America—subordinate, and silent about the racism, police brutality and white supremacy that affect our lives everyday. This is about controlling what are considered “acceptable” ways for black people to protest. When black people take to the streets in places such as Ferguson, Mo., to protest police brutality, we are treated as rioters and are teargassed, arrested and painted by the FBI as “Black Identity Extremists” posing a threat to the United States. When we call out Trump for his white supremacist ways on Twitter and suggest boycotts to send a message to people in power, we get suspended from our jobs. And now, when we silently kneel during the anthem, we are blackballed from playing in sports.

This issue goes beyond the NFL: Black children across the country are facing consequences for exercising their rights to free speech and protest. In Houston, 17-year-old India Landry was expelled from her public high school after she says she refused to stand during the Pledge of Allegiance, despite the fact that she had declined to stand for 200 days beforehand. A high school in Louisiana even has reportedly threatened to punish student athletes if they don’t stand for the national anthem. Does this sound like the land of the free and the home of the brave?

The Dallas Cowboys are my hometown team and have Steven Means,Malcolm Jenkins,Ron Brooksalways been a part of my life. While I was growing up, it was usually my mother, an immigrant who moved here from Ghana, who kept the Dallas Cowboys spirit alive in the house. She put together Super Bowl watching parties. She still watches most of the games. Thanks to her, I even had a brief stint in Dallas Cowboys cheerleading camp when I was a kid.

When I moved to Washington several years ago, I somewhat expected to be an outcast in the town of the Cowboys’ longtime rivals, the Washington Redskins. Instead, I was struck by how many black Washingtonians were longtime Dallas Cowboys fans. I met a number of black people here who proudly fly the team star, who attend games when “The Boys” are playing, and who fly down to Dallas Cowboys stadium every year.

I came to learn that the Cowboys gained a number of black fans in Washington due to the perception that the team was on the right side of civil rights history in the 1960s, when it made visible efforts to integrate the team with black players during the era of segregation, whereas the Redskins did not. Learning about that history gave me extra reason to be proud of my ’Boys.

This week, Jerry Jones and “America’s Team” have decided to put white America first—despite the reality that about 70 percent of the NFL consists of black players who put their bodies and health on the line every week to entertain millions across the country. The players do have power. If every single black player decided to stop playing football, the league would shut down. Maybe there will be some brave Cowboys players who will kneel next Sunday. But as for this Dallas girl, as long as Jones decides to storm down the wrong side of civil rights history, I have no other moral choice but to hang up my Cowboys jersey and find something else to do during Sunday games.

Karen Attiah

Mongo Signs Executive Order Banning Melanin

The Los Angeles Dodgers are a baseball team based in California, which is decidedly not a Mongo region. In that state, the top elected officials commonly say things like: “California is building a wall of justice against President unnamed-2Trump’s xenophobic, racist, and ignorant immigration policies.”

And so it is right and meet that when the Dodgers go out on the road, they do not stay in Morongo hotels. Like all Sane and Decent people, they would rather drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log.

The Dodgers’ decision was sparked by first baseman Adrian Gonzalez, whom Mongo will soon now deport, because he is a Mexican, and therefore a rapist drug criminal.

The Los Angeles Dodgers, for instance, returned to Trump’s Chicago hotel in May 2016 on a road trip to play the Cubs. But Adrian Gonzalez, a Mexican American first baseman, chose to stay elsewhere.

“You can draw your own conclusions” about why, Gonzalez told the Los Angeles Times. “They’re probably right.”

The team soon followed suit. When the Dodgers returned to Chicago for the playoffs that year, they stayed at a new hotel.

The Dodgers are currently preparing to win the World Series, but U Bum will invalidate the results, declaring the team ineligible because of the players’ criminal refusal to frequent his fleabags. He will put them in Guantanamo, and declare the New York teams winners of all the sports, by divine right of playing on an island so stupid and boring the Lanape let it go for a couple of beads.

During the 2016 presidential campaign Adrian Gonzalez posted the below video to his twit-tube:

As a result, Morongo has directed the Pentagon to use drones to take out his family. You’ll see up above a photo of Gonzalez and his family, in disguise, preparing to extort candy from the homes of white people. “Nits make lice,” Mongo commands.

Gonzalez had accent marks placed on his name on his jersey and has encouraged other Latin MLB players to do the same. Mongo has determined this means he is a communist agitator who should be shot in a jungle like Che.

In the world according to Mongo, Puerto Ricans are as bad as Mexicans: even before the hurricane their island was a trash heap, and Morongo is sick of dealing with it. He threw them some towels: what more do they want? Also trash heaps are “the inner cities,” where “the Democrats have ruled for 100 years“; these are infested with “the minorities,” who are begging the police to fire their guns at all times, but the police can’t, just sit on their bullets, because “they have to be politically correct.”
Mongo every day twitlers threats and abuse to all and every, including dropping nukes on people and hitlering broadcast licenses, but the geniuses there just let him rail on, even as they suspend Rose McGowan for being Mean to Penises. What a perfect useless platform. Soon come Michael Rennie, flying over in a Gort ship, with a big magnet, to erase it all.

It Is Happening Again

All of his work is informed by something that happened to David Lynch when he was a little boy growing up in a perfect sunny little Pacific Northwest neighborhood. One afternoon he was out in the street playing with his brother, and around the corner came stumbling a naked, bloodied woman. She sat down on the curb, and cried. And Lynch, he cried too.

The Said Admiral Is Dead

They say it came first from Africa, carried in the screams of the enslaved; that it was the death bane of the Taino, uttered just as one world perished and another began; that it was a demon drawn into Creation through the nightmare door that was cracked open in the Antilles. Fuku americanus, or more colloquially, fuku—generally a curse or a doom of some kind; specifically the Curse and the Doom of the New World. Also called the fuku of the Admiral because the Admiral was both its midwife and one of its great European victims; despite “discovering” the New World the Admiral died miserable and syphilitic, hearing (dique) divine voices. In Santo Domingo, the Land He Loved Best, the Admiral’s very name has become synonymous with both kinds of fuku, little and large; to say his name aloud or even to hear it is to invite calamity on the heads of you and yours.

No matter what its name or provenance, it is believed that the arrival of Europeans on Hispaniola unleashed the fuku on the world, and we’ve all been in the shit ever since. Santo Domingo might be fuku’s Kilometer Zero, its port of entry, but we are all of us its children, whether we know it or not . . . .

—Junot Diaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

Much about the Admiral is not known. Where he was born, and when: these are not known. The arc of his early years, when and what he studied at the University of Pavia: these, too, are not known. Where he obtained his ideas of geography, this is not known. The Admiral, it developed, did not know geography: he believed, to the end of his days, that where he landed in 1492 marked the far eastern fringe of Asia.

What is known is that when the Admiral stepped ashore on Hispaniola, he brought original sin to the New World. For the policies he pursued there exterminated that island’s people, the Taino. Every one.

All the Indians of these islands were allotted by the Admiral . . . to all the settlers who came to live in these parts; and in the opinion of many who saw what happened and speak of it as eyewitnesses, the Admiral, when he discovered these islands, passed sentence of death on a million or more Indians, men and women, of all ages, adults and children. Of this number and of those since born, it is believed that there do not survive today, in this year 1548, 500 Indians, adults and children, who are natives and who are offspring of the stock of those he found on arrival.”

Today, “the Taino survive in the shape of one’s eyes, the outline of one’s face, the idiom of one’s language.” All the rest, is gone.

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Sunday Mornin’, Goin’ Down

Satan’s sermon this Sunday morning was a sulphurous blast at Tennessee Senator Bob Corker:

Senator Bob Corker “begged” me to endorse him for re-election in Tennessee. I said “NO” and he dropped out (said he could not win without my endorsement). He also wanted to be Secretary of State, I said “NO THANKS.” He is also largely responsible for the horrendous Iran Deal! Hence, I would fully expect Corker to be a negative voice and stand in the way of our great agenda. Didn’t have the guts to run!

Corker is a mainline Republican—that is, a Barney Rubble from out of the Stone Age—who, as is common with such people, bob-corker-donald-trump-vpattained office riding racism, and once there refused to vote for Dodd-Frank, firearm background checks, the automaker-revival act, The Kenyan’s health care legislation, and cap-and-trade, among other pleasantries.

Corker is a tool, but he does possess sentience. Which is why in recent weeks he has publicly observed that Morongo lacks “stability and competence,” does not “understand the character of this nation,” and is basically an agent of chaos.

Corker has declined to seek re-election in 2018, because, like everyone with a functioning cerebrum, he has no interest in participating in the politics of Morongo.

Though once considered for top posts in the Morongo administration, when friendly with both Morongo, and all the other criminals in Morongo’s immediate family—Lolita, Lampshade, Mrs. Mongo Vol. III, Uday & Qusay—Corker has since concluded he would rather set fire to himself in the county square, than continue to pretend that Morongo is a decent human being.

Some new word of Corker’s revulsion must have pulsed out of the Morongo hi-fi TV this morning—presumably on the Frauds and Fiends show, Morongo’s own personal Pravda—thereby causing Morongo to commence the twitler Satanism.

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Among The Wildflowers


When I Worked

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